If I could bribe them by a Rose

Id bring them every flower that grows

From Amherst to Cashmere!

I would not stop for night, or storm --

Or frost, or death, or anyone --

My business were so dear!

If they would linger for a Bird

My Tambourin were soonest heard

Among the April Woods!

Unwearied, all the summer long,

Only to break in wilder song

When Winter shook the boughs!

What if they hear me!

Who shall say

That such an importunity

May not at last avail?

That, weary of this Beggars face --

They may not finally say, Yes --

To drive her from the Hall?